


The Romances of Maury Parkman, Part 1

by Gamebird



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-31
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamebird/pseuds/Gamebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maury Parkman (not dead in this AU, obviously) interacts with an OC originally introduced in The Adventures of Matt Parkman. Being with her reminds him there's something worth living for than mere duty, even though she's not the one he wants to be with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting ahead in the Company

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: This is a six chapter story with three featuring Maury and Patty (graphic) and three featuring Maury and Angela (not graphic). The first chapter is set near the end of The Adventures of Matt Parkman, between chapter 21 and 22, which puts it in July of 2010. The second is set three months later. They go on from there.**

**A/N: This is a six chapter story with three featuring Maury and Patty (graphic) and three featuring Maury and Angela (not graphic). The first chapter is set near the end of The Adventures of Matt Parkman, between chapter 21 and 22, which puts it in July of 2010. The second is set three months later. They go on from there.**

 **I don't think you need to read the Adventures of Matt Parkman (or Shattered Identity) to follow the action, but it might help to understand that in this AU, Maury Parkman's death was a mental projection placed in Daphne's mind. He never died and after a while, he rejoined the Company, working with/for Angela Petrelli as she worked to rebuild it.**

 **Given that Maury is nearing 70 years old, I think I'll give you an age!sex warning in case you squick easily. This is rated M for graphic sexual contact in the first three chapters. The last three are more romance than sex.**

Patricia didn't go with Matt. She'd been told to. She'd gone as far as the car with him before starting the fight. He was done with her so thoroughly she wanted to rip his balls off, gouge his eyes out, grab his hair and slam his head into the frame of the car. He could hear her thoughts and he clearly wasn't happy about them, but there was no apology or contrition or guilt, not that such would have done anything other than set her off even more. He was angry. He was very angry and she knew if she pushed him too far he'd lash out at her. She wasn't afraid of him. She never had been and so she started the fight.

It was only verbal. He didn't make it mental because that wasn't fair and anyway she had an annoying habit of finding ways to disrupt him when he did that, if the argument didn't go her way. He'd commanded her not to hit him or hurt him, but he'd always been shy of putting too many limits on her. She wasn't worth being with if he did that. It left her a lot of leeway and she was very creative.

"I thought it was _**you!**_ " she said hotly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It wasn't **me** , it was **him** ," Matt growled, thinking he could end this by telling her to shut up and go away. Last time he tried that she'd dumped a can of paint on him that evening and he'd nearly taken his skin off with thinner to get rid of it.

"I don't give a shit who it _**was**_ , Matt! I _thought_ it was _you_." She swallowed, wishing she could make him understand that it didn't matter to her that it may have actually been Maury. She wouldn't have even gone to his room if Matt hadn't kicked her out, so clearly this was his fault.

He glared at her over the top of the car. "Did it ever occur to you that it matters to _**me?**_ That's my _father_ in there. **He** was with **you**. If I touch you I'm… that's…" His lip curled in disgust. His father hadn't lured her into his room – Matt was sure of that. She'd gone there willingly, so she was the guilty party in this. "I don't want to ever touch you again." His voice was cold and hard. In a low, dangerous voice, he said, "Get away from me. Like I said in there, _I'm done with you_."

He looked back up at the apartment, wondering if his father would force him to take her with him. He guessed he'd find out. Technically Maury had told _her_ to go with _him_ , not Matt to bring her along, so he wasn't disobeying orders by leaving her. He got in the car and when she opened the door he snapped a command at her, "Go away." She turned on her heel with a sharp, angry exhalation and walked away, leaving the car door open intentionally. It made him have to lean over to shut it. Only a few days before, he would have done something a lot worse than tell her to leave him alone, but his father's presence had brought consequences to his actions and an element of restraint to his conduct. It was something Matt hadn't had to consider for months. He drove off in irritation without taking his wrath out on anyone.

She stalked inside the apartment and walked directly up to Maury, who was on the phone. He said into it, "I'll call you back. … Yeah, no problem." He hung up and looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. She'd come to him night before last, kneeling next to the air mattress he was using as a bed and fumbling at his blanket. She'd intended to curry favor with him as she'd been trying, desperately, to do pretty much since he'd arrived. He'd stopped her and sent her back to Matt with her lust quenched.

He hadn't really thought about how Matt would respond to it. Matt had put her out of his bed, she'd come to Maury, and the old man really hadn't touched her. He'd given her a fantasy – one that starred Matt, no less, and in quite a complimentary role – and sent her back. Maury didn't think he'd done anything wrong. Matt, it turned out, felt quite a bit differently. He'd been cheated on before and exceptionally sensitive to being cuckolded.

Matt didn't trust Patty (which was smart) and he'd misinterpreted one of his precognitive visions, thinking Maury would reject her and she'd come crawling back. Instead, the vision of Matt and Patty being together was the fantasy Maury had put into her mind. It infuriated his son, made him all the more angry because he'd foreseen it and misunderstood. He couldn't lash out at his father, but Patty was a fair target. He'd been hitting her one way or another since it had happened. Maury had had to pull Matt off of her twice now, but he hadn't run her off yet. She was persistent, Maury had to give her that.

She stood before him and opened her mind to the older man as Matt had shown her. She stepped closer to him, telegraphing her movements, thinking loudly about what she was doing. He was a man. She was a woman. She didn't want to be refused again, but she didn't know what it was she needed to do to gain his approval. She put her hands on his hips. He raised his brows slightly. She slid her body against his and looked into his hooded eyes. She wanted him to want her. She needed… no, wanted, one of them to want her and if she was ruined for Matt, then she'd try the one who had ruined her.

Maury raised his right hand to the join of her neck and shoulder, touching her skin, meeting her eyes and saying nothing. Her brows pulled together just slightly at the touch. She felt something mentally, but it was fleeting. She breathed more deeply, letting him inside in every way she knew. His hand moved towards her arm and rolled around the point of her shoulder gently, stroking in circles. It was a wonderful feeling – pleasant and warm without committing her to anything. She wanted more. His hand descended across the swell of her left breast. Her breath caught as he paused just north of the more sensitive portion, somehow knowing exactly where it was through blouse and bra. He smiled a little and his thumb swept down, rubbing back and forth. She smiled back, softly. She had him and she knew it.

Each pass of his thumb ran through her body, clenching her, making her clitoris throb distantly in echo as he brushed her nipple. His hand drifted lower, his fingertips crossing over her aureole and then across her belly. He stepped to the left and to her side, tilting his head slightly and keeping constant, mesmerizing eye contact. She lost herself in those dark orbs, hypnotic in their intensity. Her body responded strongly to his touch, to the anticipation. His fingers found the waistband of her slacks. It was elastic and his entire hand slipped boldly under it, pulling out her shirt and sending his questing digits beneath her underwear. His soft smile became a smirk and then she gasped at the feeling of his skin against hers.

He found her and without preamble, with a certainty that surprised her, his index finger slid over her clitoris and down deeper, then back up, bringing wetness from below to lubricate her. She gave a cry at the contact and leaned against him, breathing harder. She put her head down on his chest. He reached up with his left hand and ran it into her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking into his eyes again. He would see her and he would have her look nowhere else but at his face. The erotic intensity of that gaze was overwhelming. She stared into his eyes and let them absorb her. The world fell away – everything but the sensation of his touch and her response.

His fingers stroked across her surely and gently, in time with the throbbing of her body. She was wet. Her knees felt weak. She wanted more desperately, to wrap her legs around him and take him inside of her. She was back in that apartment, two years ago, with the three men she'd sold drugs to, the ones who raped her. She'd hated it at the time, but she'd often fantasized about it since. It didn't mean she'd ever seek them out, but she remembered how she'd felt. The arousal had been all-consuming. Her attempt to go along with it and keep some vestige of control had let her ride it out without terror or panic. They didn't care about her satisfaction, but it didn't matter. There were three of them and she peaked repeatedly whether she wanted to or not.

She remembered how they felt within her, one after another, filling her. The first was rough and forceful. It had burned. She hadn't been ready. But after he spilled his seed into her, the next slid in easily and she climaxed almost immediately, knowing she was being passed off, having found no satisfaction in the first coupling. The events and the sensations played through her mind with a gripping realism. She wasn't sure if she was there or it was a memory. She didn't care. She could feel their hands on her, the organ within her, their bodies pressing into hers. She let it take her.

The second had pumped into her steadily and mechanically with a regular rhythm that eventually brought her again. He was the only one who seemed to care about her. When he felt her spasm around his cock, his expression changed and he asked her if she wanted it, was enjoying it. She told him yes. He smiled, suddenly pleased and she'd realized he was screwing her not because he wanted to, but to maintain his standing with his friends. He felt pressured into it – not as much as she was, but it helped her to realize that. He thrust into her harder and came soon thereafter.

The last one didn't make it long. He'd been stroking himself and watching. He hammered into her so hard and so fast though that she came again, clinging to the mattress and hooking her legs behind him as the first held her down by the shoulders. It wasn't necessary, but he did it anyway. She'd fought them only enough that they had to force her onto the bed. The man who had her last had threatened to hit her and she'd stopped struggling, letting them get her clothes off and have her. He had held her for the first, stroking her face with his fingers while the other man fucked her. She hadn't bitten him. She even sucked at his fingers cooperatively and his eyes had glazed at that.

She'd felt so used, so alive and so thoroughly satiated afterwards it was obscene. She understood why many women didn't report rapes, not if some of the experiences left them feeling like this. She felt like an animal in heat that had been fought over and claimed and plowed. Tremor after tremor ran through her, every orgasm she'd felt then, every pleasure made real and immediate and present. She gasped and shuddered and was dimly aware she'd broken eye contact. She'd forgotten she even had it, the vision in her mind's eye being stronger than mere optical input.

She sagged against Maury Parkman, feeling his right hand against the bare skin of her neck, his thumb resting lightly against her pulse. That wasn't where she thought his right hand had been. It was dry and cool, without a trace of dampness from her body. Her face was nearly in his armpit from where she pressed against him. She could smell his deodorant, though since he'd showered just an hour before, that was all. He still had that 'old man' smell. He shifted her so her face was against the right side of his neck, her forehead against his jaw. Her breathing was slowing, her eyelids heavy. She gazed blankly at his neck and the very top of his chest. Grey hair peeked out. His skin was wrinkled and thin, splotchy. It was kind of repellant. It reminded her of her grandfather. Maury was old enough for that, she assumed. He tensed several times in series.

She looked up at him curiously and he stopped trying to stifle his laughter at the ridiculousness of the nearly fifty year age gap between them. He laughed. She glanced down at her clothing. Her shirt wasn't even untucked, but the pleasure had been quite real. Her panties were sodden. His chuckles faded and she put her head back against his chest. She pulled her thoughts together and focused. _That's what happened night before last, when I thought it was Matt? The whole thing was an illusion?_

 _Yes._

 _I like it. A lot._

He smirked. _Good. That_ _ **was**_ _my intention._

She let her hand drift down his front to his crotch. He tightened across the shoulders and swallowed. She hesitated, but he didn't stop her or otherwise indicate her touch was unwelcome. She caressed him through his slacks. He wasn't erect, but he was swollen and soft. She wanted power over him. She wanted to give him something – not just receive and have him walk on without needing her, wanting her. She looked up at him, kneading him gently. He looked at her and then away, breathing a little harder. It felt good, but he was very unsure as to whether he should let her. Doing so would make things different and he knew that even more clearly than she did. She hesitated and stopped working him, worried she was offending him, that he was only tolerating her.

He looked back and kissed her briefly on the forehead. She swallowed uneasily, her hand still on him, confused. She thought to him, _What will you let me do for you? Should I do this? …I want to do this._

He was silent for a long while, looking down at her with an intent expression. She could feel him sorting through her. She relaxed against him and let him, feeling another desperate surge of need to gain a foothold with him since Matt had rejected her. Their abilities were something she dreamed about. She had to offer him something he wanted that she could give. She didn't have an ability or contacts or money, but she had herself. It's what Matt had wanted from her.

He needed to know she saw this as a transaction, not a promise of love. He was uninterested in having her service him if he was going to have to deal with her sobbing later about how he didn't return her affection. However, he was perfectly willing to pay for his pleasure as long as the price wasn't too high. He didn't have any illusions that this was love or even fondness. He looked in her mind and saw she didn't have those illusions either.

 _Go ahead,_ he thought to her. _Do it then, but forgive me if… I'm not a young man. You know that?_

She shut her eyes and put her head against his chest, unfastening his slacks. _I know. I've been with a few older men._ She tried not to think about those, but it didn't work. The two oldest had both been unpleasant, met at the movie industry parties she'd gone to. One had been high on who knows what and become distracted in the middle of the act, wandering out of the room naked with a boner. The other had poked at her for most of an hour, seeming vacuously pleased with himself and never getting anywhere. He finally stopped because he decided it was time to go back to the bar and have another drink. She'd felt like an appliance for both men. It made her hate Viagra.

He touched her cheek as she opened his clothing and pulled him out. He stroked her face with the back of his hand and kissed her forehead again. _You're not an appliance. If I wanted to pleasure myself I could._

 _You could have_ _ **anyone**_ _,_ she thought, wrapping her hand around his thickness and caressing him. She lusted after that sort of power.

 _I know._ He didn't project anything else to her, even when she looked at him questioningly. He just smiled a little and stroked her face again. He was thinking he _could_ have anyone, but she was the only one volunteering.

She sank down on her knees and took him into her mouth, rolling his still somewhat flaccid organ with her tongue. He leaned back against the wall and got comfortable, shutting out her mind and focusing on the sensations she brought him. He didn't care to hear her side of it – not for fellatio. Even if she was one of those women who got off on it, giving head wasn't a pleasure he shared. Receiving it was a different matter. He put his head back and closed his eyes, groaning as she sucked and began to bob like a professional. She didn't hurry or make any indication that he was taking too long. He stayed out of her mind and enjoyed himself, imagining other women in her place, women he missed and wished he could be with again.

He let his hands play with the top of her head. When he was fully hard, he ran his fingers into her hair, gripping her. She didn't object. Instead she turned her head a little to ease her breathing and took him even deeper. She was ready when he started moving her head on him, fucking her mouth and the moist warmth of the back of her throat, ringing the head of his dick. Her tongue swirled against his shaft and pulled him in deep. He moaned in approval, pushing into her until he could feel her gag reflex teasing the end of his cock.

He let her go until she had control of herself again. She took several deep breaths and sucked on just the head, her lips wrapped around the flange of his tip. He watched her doing it for a few moments, then leaned back when she looked up at him. He returned to his fantasies, not wanting the eye contact. She alternated taking him deep in her throat and then working the end.

She was being patient with him. He appreciated that. He could feel his crest coming. He put his hands to her head again, just stroking her hair this time as his hips began to move against her. She tilted her head and took him deeply again. At the feel of himself entirely within her mouth this time, he pressed her face to his groin and groaned, losing himself in her. He pulled back as quickly as he could manage. She struggled for a moment, then swallowed.

He sighed voluminously. "Ohhh, boyyy. Thank you." He smiled lazily. _Well, I suppose I've fucked it up now. Matt will never have her – oversensitive bastard. He's an idiot. I wouldn't have done that the other night if I'd known he'd have a fit over it. No way I can salvage it now._ She tucked him away and took care of his clothing. He let her. When she stood up, he pulled her to him and held her against his chest, feeling the swell of her ample bosom between them. It felt nice. He rested his cheek against her hair.

He trolled through her thoughts. She was still concerned over what would happen to her. He found it a good sign that she didn't think one blow job was going to make him silly over her. She worried that if she tried to run the operation without at least one of them, she would fail or have to scale back dramatically. It wasn't that she wanted the organization anyway. It could crash and burn for all she cared, because she'd found something she wanted more. She wanted a piece of the super-powered pie. There were people out there with abilities and that was a lot more important than any amount of drugs or money or guns or even her fledging acting career.

He petted her back. _I need to get her out of here before Matt finds out about this and goes ballistic._ "Patty, there's a company you can join. I'll sponsor your entry. I think it's what you want, or at close as you're likely to get to it, anyway."

He winced a little at the thoughts she had next, thinking he **had** gone silly over her. She smiled smugly at him and he laughed, chucking her chin. "Yeah, you're good, babe, but don't get any ideas."


	2. Getting ahead in the Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N: Set in late September, maybe early October of 2010. For those who don't follow the various other media Heroes is published in, Eric Thompson from the show has a son named Eric Thompson, Jr. He is also an agent of the Company (or he was until the Company was disbanded - I haven't been able to figure out what happened to him after that in canon, so I've said they brought him back to the reformed Company in my AU). Eric Thompson the younger is the character mentioned in this chapter.**

**A/N: Set in late September, maybe early October of 2010. For those who don't follow the various other media Heroes is published in, Eric Thompson from the show has a son named Eric Thompson, Jr. He is also an agent of the Company (or he was until the Company was disbanded - I haven't been able to figure out what happened to him after that in canon, so I've said they brought him back to the reformed Company in my AU). Eric Thompson the younger is the character mentioned in this chapter.**

Maury found the room he was looking for and called Thompson out of the class he was leading for field agent training. He needed to understand what had happened with one of Thompson Jr.'s cases involving Micah Sanders and he needed a better understanding than he had gotten from the case file. He'd read over it three times and finally concluded Eric was hiding something. He hadn't called ahead to warn the man and he'd brought Michael Fitzgerald with him in case there was trouble.

Thompson looked at the blond man uneasily when he walked out into the hall. Maury shut the door behind Eric. He raised his brows and tilted his head, gesturing for Michael to hold him. "Cooperate with this, Eric. No one needs to get hurt."

The command worked enough for Michael to get both hands on the other man's arms, turning him to face Parkman, who stayed far enough away he couldn't be kicked. Thompson's face was furious, his lips tight and eyes narrow. He wasn't sure what this was about, but for one of the directors to pull him out of his class and have a goon restrain him wasn't a good sign.

"Don't fight me. I need to see your memories." The old man turned his head and shut his eyes as he pulled down the hastily erected defenses Eric had put up. He dug through until he found the topic he was looking for, then sifted the memories more carefully for details. He found what he wanted and withdrew.

Thompson snarled at him, but didn't speak. Maury had examined a less-than-complimentary period of one of his assignments where he'd taken things into his own hands, going much further than his orders had allowed. Embarrassingly, it had not turned out well, though he'd survived, at least.

Maury thought about what he'd found and said, "You need to fill out your reports more carefully. I'd prefer more fully and accurately, but if you're going to lie, you need to at least do a better job of it. If you do a lousy job and I catch it beforehand, I'm going to come after you to find out what really happened - just like now. If you lie on a case and it fucks me up because I don't figure it out in time, you better hope like hell it kills me, because if it doesn't, I'm coming for you. You'll be lucky if you have enough brain cells left afterwards to write your fucking name."

Thompson glared at him silently.

Parkman went on, "It's a hell of a lot easier just to tell the truth. No one reading these reports is a goody-two-shoe. We've all made our bones. Your father was not only tolerated in this company, but promoted, and you know what kind of man he was - the same kind of man you are. You don't have to hide what you are. You just have to keep it under control. He managed it. So can you." He nodded to Michael. "Let him go."

Thompson stepped away from Michael and exhaled, frankly surprised he was getting off so lightly. He'd been misrepresenting his reports for years now, going outside his orders… He curbed that thought, kicking himself mentally for thinking such a thing in front of a telepath.

"Go on. You have a class to teach." Maury waited until Thompson went back in the room, then walked off down the hall with Michael two steps behind. He paused and turned when he heard footsteps running up. Patty stopped about twenty feet from them, looking between the two hesitantly. Parkman waved at his companion. "Go wait at the car, Michael. I'll be out later."

She waited a moment while the blond bodybuilder left, then said, "He um… Mr. Thompson told us we could take an early lunch." She chewed on her lip. "I heard your voice when you called him out."

Maury looked her up and down. She looked like she was doing well. "How's the agent training going?" he asked conversationally.

She smiled and walked closer until there was only ten feet between them. "It's good. We spent this morning at the gun range and then for the rest of the day it's all law and police procedure - how to get away with assaulting and kidnapping people. I didn't think anyone could make that subject kind of boring, but..." She smiled thinly and her voice softened as she twisted her body back and forth wistfully. "I was really glad to hear you. It's been… what, three months?"

"About that," he said neutrally. He hadn't come here looking for her. It hadn't crossed his mind and neither had _she_ , not for at least two of the three months since he'd last seen her. A knot of others walked by, heading out after Eric's early dismissal. In the distance Maury saw Eric choose to head off the other direction instead of walking down the hall towards him. He understood the man being peeved at the moment, but Maury didn't think he'd bear much of a grudge. He'd known Thompson and his son was just like him. As long as he didn't make his humiliation public, it would be swept aside.

She waited until they were alone, then halved the distance between them again. "Do you… um… do you want to go to lunch?" she asked hopefully.

"Not really." He could tell what she was up to and he was waiting for her to move on. He was too old for her and she was too dangerous for him. What they'd done before… well, it had certainly been enjoyable, but he couldn't expect to make a habit of it and she _shouldn't_. She needed to find someone her own age and so did he, assuming he found anyone at all. He didn't think there was anything left for him in life in that department. Given how shoddily he'd treated most of the women in his life, he didn't think there _should_ be.

She knew nothing of 'should', though, but she definitely knew what she wanted. She smiled and stepped even closer, so she was only an arm's length away. "Do you want to do something else?"

His face twitched before he could stop it. She smiled more broadly at his reaction and offered, "The classroom's empty."

He sighed and shut his eyes. He almost wished he could say no. He ought to. This wasn't like that hooker in Vegas or that horny housewife he'd run into in Atlantic City. He _knew_ Patricia. They had a history and unless he crapped out in the next few months (which was fairly likely, all things considered), they were going to work together in the future. He couldn't pay her to go away after they were done. Warping her mind to make her stay away from him was impractical. More to the point, he didn't want to do it. "Classroom's empty," he muttered.

She slid her hand into his and his eyes flew open at the uninvited contact. She met them and his expression was hard, but she didn't release him. They stood for a moment while she waited to see if he would push her away. He waffled, caught between responsibility and desire. When he didn't move, she projected, _Let's go. Did you like what I did last time? I want that again._ She hadn't forgotten how to reach out to his mind.

His expression softened and he moved forward with her. He'd be damned if he'd let her lead him down the hall like a little boy. _What's one more time?_ he told himself.

She shut the door behind them and jammed it with a chair. _Sit down_ , she urged him.

He put his hand on the back of another chair, but didn't sit immediately. _Do you… Why do you want this so much?_

She looked him squarely in the face and thought, _Because it's_ _ **good**_ _. No one else has ever done that to me. It's complete. It's in my head. No one's touching me. No one's raping me for real. It's just a fantasy. I_ _ **want**_ _a fantasy. I don't want the reality of someone fucking me. You…_ She faltered, unwilling to project that she doubted his ability to perform. She knew he could climax, but she'd offered herself to him twice and he'd declined, each time satisfying her with his ability instead of his body. For all his power, he didn't threaten her. That he could have her in an instant and yet he'd never bothered made her feel safe with him.

He sat down slowly, shaking his head and sorting through her thoughts. As she had before, she felt it and she let him do it. It wasn't like she could resist him any better than Thompson had, but she made it easier by not trying.

After what had happened to her, actual sex had become a mechanical process for her, devoid of feeling. It was why she had no problem with giving herself to a man. It was like driving to the store with someone. She had no emotional investment in the act. With Maury, she'd blown him last time and he'd obediently enrolled her as a Company agent. (He grumbled to himself mentally, but it was true, no matter how much he told himself it hadn't changed anything. She was pretty, it had been good and he was human.) She didn't want as much from him this time – she just wanted him to pleasure her. The act itself was fantastic. It had every sensation of physically being with someone and none of the drawbacks or emotional numbness. She could relax and enjoy it.

She lowered herself between his knees and unbuttoned his pants. He asked her, _How does giving me a blow job factor into your fantasy?_

She smiled at him, not looking up. She tugged down his zipper. _Would you have come down here if you didn't think you were going to get something out of it?_

 _Mm. No._

She pulled his pants down with his assistance to free himself. She tugged the underwear out of the way and pulled out his flaccid organ. _Well, there you go then. Gotta give to get, sometimes._ She leaned down to lick his glans, lapping at it several times before sucking it into her mouth and kneading it with her tongue and lips. He tensed and put his head back, spreading his legs a little more. "Whoa! Wow." He huffed and gripped the edge of the seat. _She's not wasting any time, that's for sure._ She sucked and pulled at him, able to take all of him into her mouth at this point. He moaned as her lips caressed him and aroused him, teasing and stimulating. He let his eyes glaze over as he stiffened.

She brought up her right hand to grasp his shaft, pumping slowly as she worked his tip, applying a truly delicious amount of suction to him. His cheeks clenched and he put his hands to her head, wanting to grip her and steer. He'd had a couple women tell him they found that very annoying, for a man to take their head and move it for them, but something about the sensation of his dick inside a warm, soft and wet orifice begged for him to thrust into it. It was probably instinctive. His hips rocked him slowly in her mouth.

He stroked her hair fitfully and then chafed the top of his thighs. She reached up with her other hand and caught one of his, twining their fingers together. He looked down and she up. He jerked his gaze elsewhere, but he didn't pull his hand away. _I'm getting emotionally involved_ , he thought. _This is stupid – stupid, stupid, stupid!_ He took his other hand and fisted it into her hair, bobbing her on him more forcefully despite, or perhaps because, he thought she wouldn't like it. She didn't complain. She took her hand from his shaft and swallowed his entire length, letting him push it all into her. She had to turn her head and look away to take him that deep. He stole another glance at her to make sure she wasn't looking at him anymore. When she seemed comfortable, or at least willing, to keep up the pace and depth he'd urged her to, he took both his hands back to the edge of the chair.

She rubbed his thighs with her hands, raising herself up to get a better angle. She was deep-throating him more thoroughly than last time. He started groaning and grunting with every long draw on his organ she made. She went all the way up, sucking and swirling her tongue across him, then a breath or two and all the way back down to the back of her throat, where she bobbed a few times before repeating the process patiently and methodically. She slid her hands around behind him and rubbed at the small of his back. He reached up and touched her hair gently, on the cusp of coming. It was soft and silky. He pushed her down against himself when he finally came. She gagged, a little surprised, then swallowed as much as she could manage with him still in her mouth.

She sucked him clean as he lay back limply, twitching a little. He smiled when she was done. "Yeah… you're still real good," he said breathily.

"Mm," she said and put her head down on his thigh, her breath making his penis cool uncomfortably.

He reached down and pulled his underwear over himself. When she started to shift, he said, "Stay there. That's nice. Just… touching you. You touching me. I don't get that much." He touched her head softly, stirring her hair and caressing her ear lightly.

"I don't understand," she said softly. "You could have this from whoever you wanted."

He smiled a little. "Yeah, and I noticed Matt was only sleeping with one woman too."

Despite his request, she lifted her head to look at him. She blinked and rolled that around in her mind. He listened, having shut her out earlier for the act. She'd imagined that Matt just didn't want to have to explain his ability to other women. Several times he'd told her how her most attractive feature was that she wasn't afraid of him. He'd seemed desperately attached to that trait, though it was inconsequential to her. She still didn't follow why, if Maury wanted something like human contact, he didn't just tell people to be with him.

Parkman pushed her head back down against his thigh. _Young people_ , he thought. It wasn't a fair characterization, since he'd run into people of all ages who thought that way. Certainly _he_ had felt that way until he was nearly fifty years old, but he still thought of it as an immature mindset. It was Charles who had finally taught him to change his ways. He was the only telepath Maury knew who had a loving, well-adjusted life. He'd envied the black bastard. He still talked with him from time to time – the Dead Telepath Society.

Patty felt a pang of annoyance at being pushed down, but complied, wrapping her arms back around his hips and stroking the top of his buttocks. He petted her hair gently, finding an itchy spot at the base of her neck. He scratched it for her idly. She snuggled her head against his leg and wondered if there was something special about her that appealed to mind-readers.

"No, that's not it. I don't think I can really explain it." No matter what he told someone to do, there was always a difference between compulsion and free will. He couldn't control emotions, though he didn't know if he would if he could – not for intimacy. Some people wanted their partners to be willing and engaged and some didn't care. These days, he was one of the former. He hadn't always been that way. He pulled her up so she stood on her knees between his legs. He put his hands carefully on either side of her face. "It's a little easier if I have skin contact," he said to her questioning expression. "Are you ready for your turn?"

She nodded. "Is this hard for you?" she asked.

"No. Do you have anything specific you want?"

She smiled. "Surprise me."

He lifted his hand to run it through her hair, letting the other fall to her shoulder. For a moment she was puzzled at why he'd broken the skin contact he'd just mentioned, then she realized it was all part of the illusion. He smiled at her in confirmation of her thought. She moved her head back and forth and raised her right hand, looking at it. It felt real. It looked real – completely and entirely real. "This is all… in my head?"

He stroked her hair again and nodded. His fingers would never catch in tangle and her hair fell back into lovely, perfect waves after he'd touched it. "It's like a dream – a shared dream. You slept with Matt. You were in some of his dreams, weren't you?"

She nodded. It wasn't a good memory, even though Matt had tried his best to shield her. His dreams were generally bad – nightmarish visions of the future or drug-induced hallucinations. She hadn't appreciated being part of either. Maury grimaced. "Well… he's not a good example."

He reached down and began to pull her blouse off. For a moment, Patty crossed her arms and pulled away from him, sitting back on her heels. She regarded him steadily. He raised his brows. She was testing to see if she had any control here. She had very little while he was paying attention, as he was now, but there was nothing keeping him from letting her have her way. She pulled off her blouse herself and tossed it aside, then unfastened her bra. His smile widened. She had a lovely body – a little heavier than ideal, but here in their shared mind's eyes, it was perfected and her form was everything she wanted it to be. His eyes went back and forth slowly from one breast to the other. She giggled and came up on her knees again so he could reach her.

He put his hands on her shoulders first, then slid them down the outside of her arms. He cupped her elbows and leaned forward, shutting his eyes. He put his forehead against hers. She shut her eyes too after a moment. When he leaned away and she opened them, he was a different man. He was a professor of graphic design she'd had a class with that spring. She'd thought he was devastatingly handsome, yet to her frustration, he didn't date students. She grinned wickedly and leaned forward to kiss him. She suffered a moment of uncertainty – Maury had come in her mouth.

He took the initiative and pressed his mouth to hers, the bristles from her teacher's moustache ticklish and abrasive against her upper lip. _You're not really kissing me,_ he thought to her. _Don't worry about it._ She opened her lips and his tongue slipped inside. He tasted like cinnamon gum. She vaguely remembered he'd been chewing some when she stayed after class to talk to him about an assignment… and ask him out. It was marvelous that Maury could find details like that. She pressed herself against him and kissed him more passionately.

His hands drifted inward to caress her breasts, weighing them, stroking the soft skin and kneading the pliable flesh. "Mmm," he said into her mouth, turning his head so he could plunge his darting tongue deeper within her. His fingers finally closed on her nipples and it was her turn to moan against him as he rolled the erect flesh between his fingertip and thumb. She shut her eyes and wrapped her hands behind his neck, rubbing over the nape of it and the short, shaved hair. She ran her hands higher into his dark, dense hair. She pressed forward into him, making it difficult for him to continue with teasing her nipples so he let one hand run down further and slip inside the waistband of her slacks.

There was a distant noise, an echo almost of the door opening and a respectful male voice asking, "Mr. Parkman? Oh!" She tried to turn to look, but she could feel a ghostly impression of Maury's hands on her face, trapping her attention. For a moment she was mortified that someone had walked in on this, but then she realized they'd see nothing but him holding her face and she fully clothed. She was only exposed to Maury, even if, perhaps, she was breathing a bit too hard and probably flushed with passion as well.

Even as her professor continued to kiss her and fondle her, she could hear, very separated from herself, as if from a great depth, Parkman's voice say, "No, come on in, Michael. You can help me reach a few places I don't have enough hands for." She could even feel his breath puff against her face as he spoke and thought she heard footsteps come up behind her. She ached to look. In the vision, her teacher kissed her more insistently as his hand found her clitoris. His fingers began to swirl gently across it.

She lost track of the alternate layers of reality, unable to focus as he evoked a wave of sensation from her with those slight touches. She had to break from the kiss to pant against him and make small mewls of pleasure. He dropped his other hand to her hip and pushed down her pants. She jerked slightly to feel a shadow of other hands, from behind her, accomplishing the action in reality – or what might have been reality. Her skin felt cool where it was newly exposed, whereas her top still felt comfortable, like it would if she were still truly clothed.

"Oh," she whimpered and panted against his shoulder as his fingers were relentless against her, making her so addled she couldn't bring herself together enough to do anything about the feeling of a hand between her legs from behind, slowly stroking her lips and finding her vagina. "Oh! Oh!" She bucked a little as a thick finger slid into her, probing and opening her. She spread her legs further, cooperating. It had to be the man Maury had shown up with. She was about to be fucked by a stranger. She couldn't even see him. He added another finger and she didn't care.

It might have been something Parkman was doing or maybe it was just the situation, but she was wild with lust. She bent forward and shuffled backwards, offering herself to the man behind her. Her professor kept his hand on the front of her sex, rubbing and teasing. She moaned against him as he lowered his mouth to her neck and nibbled at her, his moustache brushing across her skin.

She felt the other man's organ against her, rubbing back and forth across her opening. She realized he was lubricating himself because he was enormous. Again she tried to turn and look, but the man in front of her bit her firmly and suddenly, pulling her against him and holding her with one arm. The other hand changed pace, settling directly on her clit and rubbing it determinedly. She was so close she thought she might orgasm any moment. It was only the tension and anticipation of being filled by the man behind her that held her off.

She felt his hands on her hips as he began to press into her. He was huge against her opening, larger across than she was. She had no idea how she was to accommodate him, but no one was asking her. The mustached man moved up to her ear and sucked the edge of it, breathing on her. His free hand stroked up and down her back as if trying to sooth her while the pressure on her vagina mounted to almost unbearable levels. She whimpered.

The man stopped pressing himself fruitlessly against her and pulled back a little. He held his organ and stroked it up and down across her, wetting himself again with her fluids, and then pushed in as much as she could take. She cried out against it, not quite objecting as his flesh parted hers, finally widening her enough that he could enter. She panted and groaned, shaking with pleasure and a burning pain. Distantly she heard Parkman say, "Slower. Don't hurt her."

He pulled back and repeated the process a third time, working her first with what felt like all four thick fingers of his large hand. She wondered briefly if she'd be the same after this. She doubted it, but she wasn't about to stop it. The third time he pressed into her, he finally got his entire head within her and she heard him hiss with pleasure as she gasped. Parkman shushed him. The man started rocking back and forth, moving within her only a tiny amount but each motion sent racking waves of pleasure through her. She climaxed almost immediately, unable to hold off any longer. Her pussy couldn't possibly tighten around the enormous heft within it, but the muscles tensed and spasmed anyway.

She cried, not just crying out, but vocalizing continuously as he kept pushing into her, one inexorable inch at a time. He was long in addition to thick and she couldn't imagine she could take him entire within her. He was going to make her though and Maury was letting him. She couldn't fight it. She collapsed gradually into his lap, letting the other man hold her up by the hips.

"Well, as long as you're down there…" Parkman pushed down his underwear, or maybe it was her professor. She had no idea. There was no possible way she could form a coherent thought at the moment, not with the love sausage of doom still plowing its way into her snatch. Her teacher was hard and thick and he put the head of his manhood against her mouth, pushing her down firmly enough so she had to open and take him or lock her teeth against him. She let him in, but she couldn't think enough to suck him properly. It didn't matter. He turned her head and shoved his entire length into her, burying himself. She could smell his maleness strongly, but his organ didn't choke her or even trigger a gag. She guessed this much, at least, must be illusion.

The man behind her seemed all too real. She kept hovering on the edge of pain from his size and he was finally starting to move more freely within her, gripping her hips tightly and pulling her back and forth on himself. He still wasn't all the way in. After working her tirelessly for some time, the pain began to fade and pleasure took front stage. As if he sensed that, he finally pushed all the way inside her. She started to moan, then screamed, but she still had her mouth full of cock. All that happened was a strong vibration in her throat and a strangled noise that made her professor gasp with surprised gratification. She tried to struggle free but he put both hands on her head and held her there, forcing her to take it from both ends.

The other man had her hips and rocked in and out of her faster and more surely. She cried out with every thrust, each one was too much, but it only seemed to intensify the satisfaction the man in her mouth got out of her performance. Every movement from behind thrust his cock deeper in her throat. She didn't know if she could asphyxiate in an illusion, but it felt like she was dancing on the edge of passing out, though whether from pleasure or suffocation was anyone's guess.

She could feel her tortured sex building for another orgasm. She had no idea when this was going to end. It had gone on so long already. It felt like the man behind her was nearing his end and she was sure the man she was sucking was about to lose it. He was grunting madly and his fingers were curled into her hair, nails biting against her scalp. With a final jerk of his hips and a tug on her head he came within her, holding her to him so she couldn't even swallow properly. Sperm and drool overflowed from her mouth. Her eyes fluttered back in her head as her own orgasm began to shake her.

Feeling it, the man behind her began to use her roughly and she struggled to scream again as it felt like he would tear her insides apart. The final straw was when he shifted his hand around and thrust one meaty thumb into her ass, worming it in and flexing the digit inside of her. Her body quivered and surged around his shaft in a prolonged, intense climax. Unbearable, powerful waves ripped through her and didn't stop until the man inside her reached his own peak, slapping into her solidly and filling her with his seed. She shuddered and then sobbed from the intensity as she finally got her mouth free of the first man. She wasn't unhappy - she was dazed, shaking and stunned, her eyes out of focus.

The man before her put his hands on either side of her face and slowly drew her up. She panted and tried to focus on his handsome face. A ribbon of cum hung from her slack lips. It felt cold against her breast. When she finally managed to see him clearly, his features shifted and it was Maury Parkman. She smiled a little raggedly, still struggling to get her bearings. "Not done yet," he murmured and she felt the man behind her pull out in one very long pull, letting her know exactly how much had been within her.

Her eyes bugged and she tried to fall forward against her patron, but he held her away. All she could say, over and over, was "Ah! Ah! Ah!" with every breath. She felt her body slowly calm as she let Parkman hold her up. He did so with surprising ease.

He said softly, "And… once… more." There was another shift in perception and her shirt - all of her clothes - were back on. Her mouth did not taste so strongly of semen even if she was indeed drooling a little. Most important of all, she didn't feel like her female organs had been ruined. She turned weakly and looked behind her. Maury let her, putting a hand on her back to steady her. She still felt wobbly, though not as much as she had in the fantasy. There was no one there. The chair she'd jammed in front of the door was still in place.

"I wouldn't do that to you," he said quietly. "Not without asking, at least."

She swallowed and wiped her mouth, then turned back to him and buried her face against his neck in relief. She'd hoped it was fake, just part of the illusion, but she hadn't been sure. He put his arms around her lightly. She was over stimulated and perhaps overwrought, but she was immensely pleased with him. He smiled. "Guess I still know how to show a girl a good time."

"Oh God, Maury, you're the best! I don't ever want to be with anyone else."

He laughed and hoped like hell she was kidding. He knew she wasn't, not entirely. That scared him.

"I should have known," she said. "No one can be that big unless they're a porn star." She turned her head to lay it on his shoulder.

"Well… maybe I changed the dimensions a little bit," he said noncommittally. He'd been in Michael's head. He was confident that if anything, his portrayal had been conservative. The man couldn't have a woman unless she'd delivered vaginally and even then he had issues. It was actually a bit of a problem for him.

He turned and put his face against her hair, whispering very quietly, almost too quietly for her to hear, "Thank you for being nice to me."

"What?" She pulled up and away to look at him, brows pulling together.

He stood so quickly the chair scooted back. He turned away while he pulled up his pants and fastened them. "I've got somewhere I've got to be. You need to pull yourself together and get lunch." His voice was brusque and businesslike. "Thanks," he said casually, like she'd done nothing more for him than bring him coffee. He walked to the door and moved the chair out of the way. "Clean up," he said curtly and left without looking back.

She watched him go without speaking. She wasn't angry at how he'd left. She'd heard what he'd said. She'd heard the tone of voice he'd used for it and he'd never sounded so vulnerable.

 **A/N: My husband told me of a man he knew in college who had Michael's problem. He was in his early 20s and still a virgin (as far as penetrative sex went), despite lots of dates and several attempts. He was particularly annoyed by women who had heard about him and would ask him out on a date for no reason except to see. They weren't able to even give him head – they just wanted to see and touch, but "Hahaha! No, of course not, don't be silly, you'd hurt me" they wouldn't give him any satisfaction. He eventually married an older woman who had six children and as far as my husband knew, they lived happily ever after. He never had any interest in the sex industry, though he probably could have made a killing at it.**


	3. Friends with Benefits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She waited a couple weeks before calling him. Finding his phone number wasn't too difficult. He was a director and many agents had the director's numbers in case of emergency, if something needed to be escalated and they couldn't contact their immediate superior. She didn't have much of a conversation, though. He was busy. He was short with her. He hung up on her.

She waited a couple weeks before calling him. Finding his phone number wasn't too difficult. He was a director and many agents had the director's numbers in case of emergency, if something needed to be escalated and they couldn't contact their immediate superior. She didn't have much of a conversation, though. He was busy. He was short with her. He hung up on her.

She called back a few days later. Maybe he really had been busy. It wasn't like he didn't have a lot of Company work to do. Maybe she'd called at a bad time. He answered on the second ring and made sure it was her. After that, he was abusive and mean and told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't have time to spend coddling new agents. She was not to call him again unless it was about business, then he hung up on her. Again. She turned off her phone carefully and thought about it. Her heart hammered in her chest. All she'd wanted to do was talk. She tried not to think about how she felt – used and cast aside just like Matt had done to her. Instead she threw herself into her new job.

That worked for a while. When her training was done they shipped her off to Portland on assignment, then Odessa. Thanksgiving slipped by while she was in Texas. It was lonely and unmarked. Most of the agents had families. Those who didn't seemed more content with being loners than she was, or perhaps they just had more practice at it. She didn't ask. She was shipped back to Philadelphia to support project management at the new Pinehearst facility construction in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Christmas stole up to her as the days marched past. She devised a plan: if she couldn't call, she'd visit.

Finding out where he lived was easier than she'd expected. Apparently it was well known among the agents that the directors spied on each other constantly, so her inquiries didn't stand out. They tended to use outside security firms, but various Company employees got called in often enough that she only had to go through three people before she found one who knew what she needed. He could even show her the live security feed on Maury's apartment.

She sank down in her chair and looked in wonder at the dingy, green-painted abode. She'd expected… more. Angela Petrelli lived in a mansion. Gabriel, or Nathan Petrelli, or Mr. Grey, or Sylar or whatever that shape shifter was calling himself this week lived almost as well. The third director lived in a rundown, one bedroom apartment in Philadelphia decorated in a style out of fashion for at least thirty years. It wasn't obsessively tidy or terribly messy – it just looked lived in and comfortable in a shabby sort of way. He had an area set up for a home office in the fairly large living room, a cramped kitchen and bathroom, and a single bedroom.

"Does he ever have anyone in there with him?" she asked, gesturing at the bedroom on the screen.

Chuck laughed. He had straight, chocolate brown hair and sideburns that came down to the corners of his mouth. It was a strange style, but he was strange too, so it fit. "Uh… Mr. Parkman? Are you kidding? He's like… ancient. No, he never has anyone in there with him. I mean, not even in his whole apartment. Wait… he had some computer tech there last month, installing a video conferencing set up, so I suppose he's not one of those weirdoes who's too paranoid to let other people see where they live. But he doesn't have guests, if that's what you mean. I don't think he has any friends at all. He's all business, all the time."

She thought of several things to say to that, but none of them were appropriate to share. She nodded, thanked him and went back to asking general questions about security to cover her interest in this particular person and place. That evening she stopped by but Maury wasn't there. She tried the next morning but he was still out. She wondered if he was there and not answering. She hadn't heard anything, but maybe he could sense her through the door and hadn't moved. She went to the Philly containment facility. She'd heard he did a lot of his work there from the backup security station on the first floor.

She badged herself through the outer door, but the inner was restricted to the facility manager, regional manager and directors. She knew he was there. She'd already asked at main security. She knocked and waited. He opened the door and gave her a dull smile. "What do you want?"

She swallowed. "I want to talk to you." He frowned. She added, "You told me not to call."

"Not unless it was about work." He sounded tired, resigned.

"I don't want to talk about work," she said defiantly.

"I gathered."

He was still standing in the doorway, regarding her. She stepped closer, casting her eyes downward. "Let me in," she demanded softly.

He took a deep breath and stepped back. She entered. The door swung shut. He walked over and sat down, wheeling his chair over to a screen and rattling the mouse next to it. She felt dismissed, so she looked around the room. It wasn't very big, intended to be used in emergencies or for special projects. It also doubled as a secure office. File cabinets covered three walls and computer hardware the other. In the middle was a U-shaped set of monitors with stations for two observers and a clear area at the end set up as a desk.

Maury fiddled around on the screen for a bit and then turned back to her. "I've turned off active monitoring in here. For now." When she didn't say anything, he said, "Did you come here for a repeat?"

 _Not really_. "Yeah," she said. She walked over to him and ran a hand over his shoulder, then down his chest a little, teasing. She leaned over him, pushing his chair back, waiting a few beats before going lower. He looked forward into her cleavage, which was her intention.

He reached up and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her away before she could kneel before him. "That's not why you came here. How about we talk?" He felt the hurt his rejection caused. It passed through her like he'd slapped her, but she backed off and sat in the other chair.

She sighed and turned in place, rotating her seat one way and then the other. Her thoughts were in turmoil. "I want to be with you," she said, her voice small.

He looked at the ceiling. "I know. I got that. You're too young for me, Patty, and I'm too old. Go find some nice young man your own age."

She glared at him, thinking he hadn't been too old for her the times they'd been together before, indignant that he would dictate who she should be with based on age alone. She looked away. No 'nice young man' would come with his assets.

"What about the other agents?"

"I don't want to be with them," she said sullenly. "They're not interested in me anyway."

He chuckled. "Oh yes they are." She looked over at him. "They look at you when they think you're not looking. They think about you, about being with you. I know how people are. I know _men_." He looked her up and down. "You're a lovely woman, Patricia. You'd make any man you decided to share yourself with very, very happy."

 _I want to make_ _ **you**_ _happy_ , she thought, clearly intending him to hear it.

He didn't respond to the projection. "There's a couple of them you've looked at yourself. You ought to ask them out, find out what they're like. The only men you've been with…" he trailed off, eyes distant as he confirmed what he'd only skimmed over in earlier encounters. He shook his head. "They're not good examples – high school kids, pot heads, johns… Matt wasn't in a good place."

"You've been nice to me," she interjected earnestly.

He sighed and blinked and looked away from her. _Yeah, and this is what I get for it – a bunch of emotional angst. What was that saying? Time wounds all heels._ "I'm not the only one who could be. Go find someone else."

She thought about leaving right then. She thought about it and discarded it. "Make me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I don't want to go. I don't want to find someone else. I'm not going to unless you _make_ me."

He laughed and shook his head ruefully. "Patty, Patty… I don't have to use my ability to never see you again."

She blinked. He'd seen her hired into the Company. He could see her fired. She hadn't thought about that. But it was okay, she reasoned. There were other groups out there and she knew that now. If he wouldn't have her, then she'd find someone who would, eventually.

"That's not what I meant," he grumbled.

She snapped her head around, glad that he'd confirmed he was reading her mind. He glanced up at her briefly, then away, annoyed.

"Well, what did you mean?" she said. "Are you just going to tell me to get lost and expect me to do it?" She sniffed and looked away, leaning against the desk at the end. She was fighting back tears, her emotions roiling. It made him sick to listen to it, angry that she felt that way. He had a tendency to lash out at people when they made him feel bad about himself, guilty for hurting them. He felt a hot surge of that hate now. It showed on his face and she saw it, but didn't know where it came from. She started crying. She thought it really was over.

 _And it should be,_ he thought, almost trembling with the effort of suppressing his rage. _It should be. Let her run out of here weeping and she'll never come back. She'll be out there, somewhere else, hurting and I won't have to deal with it. She'll get over it (but not really) and move on and it will be a wound in her heart for the rest of her life._

He swallowed and set aside his anger. He stood just as she tightened and straightened, about to leave. She hesitated at his movement. He walked to her, face blank, and put his arms out to her, his face gentle even if he was still seething inside. He was trying to be a good person. He was trying to be kind. He didn't need to hurt people and make things worse.

She stood and he embraced her lightly. She blinked and twisted her hands into his shirt, putting her head down against his chest. He still smelled like an old man. It was fast becoming a scent she associated with comfort. He stroked her back very softly and said, "Tell me the truth: how much of this is a calculated act?"

She stiffened a little against him, then relaxed. "Some. Not all of it. I'm…" _so sorry, so alone, so afraid. Don't leave me, don't make me leave, want me, God, please want me_. A new set of tears flowed down her face. _I just want you to need me so you won't get rid of me._

He put his mouth against the top of her head and hugged her more firmly. Her hair smelled of vanilla and berries – one of those scented hair products, no doubt. _Women_ , he thought. They had too many emotions. He didn't want her and he didn't think that he was, ultimately, what she needed. She didn't need to _hurt_ though. He soothed her. He was calming down, more comfortable in his self-control. He thought about how Matt had projected to him the last time he'd had to deal with a crying woman, and made him back off from his usual angry reaction. He'd taken it to heart and given that moment a lot of thought, both in what it meant about Matt and about himself.

"Put your arms around me," he murmured. She did, sliding her arms under his and sighing against him. The little hitches in her breathing started to even out. He turned his head so his cheek was against her hair and rocked her back and forth a little. She leaned into him, letting him hold her and salve her loneliness, reveling in it.

He brought a hand up to her hair and stroked it, thinking. Christmas was coming up. It stressed a lot of people out. He wondered what she was going to do. He pulled the information out of her. She had no idea what she was going to do – probably spend it much as she had Thanksgiving, unless he had no plans and she could talk him into dinner.

Her family was in Plano, Texas and they disapproved of her, strongly. The last time they'd seen her she'd shown up with her drug-dealing boyfriend Nick in tow. They had not been impressed. She'd left only two days into the five day stay she'd had planned. She'd spent this last Thanksgiving alone in her apartment in Odessa rather than go visit them.

"You need friends," he said.

She surprised him by answering immediately, "So do you."

He stiffened a little and shifted. She started to push away from him and he didn't let her. She gave in to it and stayed where she was. "My friends are none of your concern, Patty."

"Do you even have any?" she said into his shirt.

"That's not the point."

 _Isn't it?_ She left it unsaid. He _didn't_ have any. Not really. Not unless you counted Angela and she was pretty distant. It was just a business relationship and they both knew that. He wondered if he should try to make it something more? Everyone else he'd been friends with was dead or gone - mostly the former. His best conversations were with Charles and he'd been dead for years now. He hadn't really thought about it, but his life was more sad and empty than hers. He shook it off. He'd think about it some other time.

She sniffed and pushed away from him firmly. He let her. "I want to be your friend." _If you won't let me be your lover._

He smiled and reached up to brush away the tear tracks. After a long pause, he said, "Okay." She looked surprised. She was. He let his hand fall to her shoulder and drift down her arm. He patted her, but avoided her hand when she tried to catch his. To sooth her hurt expression, he asked, "Do you want to spend Christmas with me? I'm going to drop off some candy to our inmates and talk to the guards, just hang around. The holidays get some of the prisoners antsy. I try to stick around in case of problems. You can come with me."

She smiled. "Yes, yes, I'd love that." She leaned forward to kiss him and he turned his face.

"No. Don't kiss me."

She looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to." He looked grouchy about it.

"Can we do other things?" She smiled coyly and moved a bit closer, touching his hip.

He furrowed his brow at her and started to ask why she was all the time going on about sex, but then he looked at her. She was 24. It had been months. Other than being with him in October, she hadn't been with anyone since Matt in July. It was the longest dry spell she'd had since she was sixteen. From his perspective it was non-stop action – from hers, pining away. He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, we can do other things. What'd'ya think I'm going to turn you down?" He chuckled. "I thought you just wanted to be friends, though."

She gave him a sour look. "I didn't _just_ want to be friends. You know that." She huffed and put her hand to his crotch, fondling. He shut his eyes and she rubbed him intently, putting her body against his and laying her head on his chest. He brought a hand up and stroked her hair. He had swollen enough that she could feel him filling. He moved over to lean against the counter and she sat down in her chair, rolling it over to him.

He looked at the office chair critically and said, "You can adjust the seat lower. Might help."

She moved it to the lowest setting and opened his pants, pushing them down to his knees. He didn't like how dangerous that would be if he were caught by surprise and pushed them down the rest of the way, stepping out of them. She reached for him and he said, "Wait."

He took a deep breath and looked at the far wall for a moment. She looked up at him and waited. He ran a hand into her hair, unseeing, mussing it thoroughly. He pulled it loose and started again, running his fingers in at her hairline and letting his palm rest on her forehead. He clenched his fingers into her hair. She was concerned, unsure of what he was going to do next. "Shh," he said. "It's okay. I think you'll like this. It just takes me a little while to set it up. It's going to feel… odd for a minute or so. Don't move."

She breathed deeply and looked around, otherwise holding still. Abilities were weird and many of them took concentration. She trusted him, obviously. She felt a prickling in her sex. She shifted slightly, thinking it was just an itch. It changed, but it didn't go away. She felt a flush of heat and she inhaled sharply. She looked up at him, his hand still on her forehead; his fingers still in her hair.

"Yeah," he said distantly. "That's me. Stay calm. Almost done."

Her clitoris throbbed once and his penis twitched as if in response. Her eyes were drawn to it.

"That's all," he said. "I need to keep my hand on you though. Otherwise it will be numb." He gave a slight pressure on her forehead to indicate what he meant.

She nodded, not sure what she was agreeing to, and opened her mouth, moving forward to take him in. A second after touching her lips to him though, she jumped and leaned away, licking her lips. He smiled. She tried again and this time she dropped a hand to her crotch and looked up at him with a perplexed smile. With each touch of her lips on his penis, she felt a warm, wet touch on her clitoris and the sensitive hood of flesh around it.

He continued to smile at her and nudged forward with his hips. She dropped her eyes back to the matter at hand and brought both hands back up. She stroked her fingertips over him, feeling the sensation across herself. She slid her hand around his shaft, feeling a fullness in her vagina. She moved her lips back to his tip and it felt like someone was giving her cunnilingus – just a light touch – but it intensified as she began to suck him and then swirl her tongue around his glans.

She spread her legs and leaned forward into him, making him shift his hand to the side of her forehead, across her temple and above her ear. She breathed harder and laughed. "Wow, that's really strange. It's… it's like I'm… I'm the one who's…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Yeah. Certainly motivate you to do a good job, won't it? Not that I have any complaints, mind you."

She exhaled and then twitched as she felt the air blow across him and thus herself. "Wow. Okay then." She grinned and ran her tongue along the side of his shaft, then gathered him into her mouth entirely. She moaned softly and started sucking and working him. He wasn't entirely stiff yet, but he was getting that way. She ran her hands up and down his thighs, then one between his legs. After a moment of insistent exploration, he shifted and widened his stance a little bit. He could see what she intended to do, which made him glad he'd taken the extra time to cover all the bases, so to speak, with the link.

She brought her hand to her mouth and wet her fingers, then thought, _Are you okay with this? Some guys aren't…_

 _It's good._ He wasn't partial to it, but it wasn't a bad thing. She was doing it for herself anyway. She was getting into it faster than he'd expected. The other two women he'd done this with had been very put off by it at first.

Her hand went back to the cleft of his ass and probed gently. She swallowed and stopped to breathe for a moment, then licked and sucked steadily at the head of his cock while her finger pushed upwards against him. He opened his mouth to say something about her fingernails, then shut it. She felt them as much as he did. It was one of the advantages of this. She moved more carefully, teasing against him and rubbing in little circles while she mouthed his penis.

She moaned into him again and sunk his entire organ into her mouth as she pushed her finger into him. He was fully erect now and she felt it like it was both penetration and clitoral stimulation together. Every touch to the head of his cock translated to her nub. She deep-throated him and hummed, breathing heavily through her nose.

Eventually she backed off and began to deliver long, slow licks all over him. It was an odd pattern, but she liked it, wishing he would take her for real. She thought it as a question to him.

 _No_ , he answered.

Her mind grumbled about why not, but she didn't project it clearly so he ignored her. Oral sex was the realm of prostitutes and short-term lovers for Maury. Vaginal sex and kissing were reserved for long term partners. Telepathic gratification didn't really have a category as he could create such an illusion on someone who wasn't a sexual partner just as easily as on someone who was. He didn't have to be emotionally involved or aroused to do it.

She worked a second finger into his ass and scissored them back and forth slowly. He twitched and shifted at the new sensation. She returned to taking his whole length into her mouth, working him up and down, bobbing and sucking and licking. She whined with pleasure, taking him as deep as she could so she could feel it all through her body. He smiled; pleased he didn't need to encourage her to take him all the way. She was happy to do it and it was working on both of them. He held himself off while her arousal built towards a peak. It didn't work well for them to be out of sync while linked.

She sucked him with a singular determination and he felt her orgasm beginning. He let the feeling flow through himself as well. He'd already been close. It moved him and he rocked in her mouth, spurting into the back of her throat. She choked a little, then swallowed him down and let him slip from her mouth as she panted against him, feeling the aftershocks of her climax. She pulled her fingers from him and twitched. He cut the link – a much faster process than establishing it in the first place.

She smiled languidly and leaned back in the chair, stretching. He admired her form for a second, then went to get his pants back on. "That was good," she said. "And weird. Matt… Ah, is it okay for me to talk about Matt and me… to you?"

He shrugged. "I don't care."

She looked at him steadily for a moment. He shrugged and sank down in the other chair. He wasn't really feeling like listening to her at the moment, enjoying the sleepy afterglow of sex. She wanted to talk though, so he left her to decide on her own how motivated she was to yak at him.

Apparently she was motivated, because she said, "Matt said he could feel sex from my side, feel what it was like to have him in me and that was… I guess that was pretty good. He liked it a lot. This was kind of the same thing, sort of. Except it was me feeling what I was doing to you, so that's the reverse, isn't it?"

"Mm." He looked disinterested.

She looked cross. "Are you listening to me at all?"

He focused on her and tried not to look disgruntled. "Of course. I was just thinking about how nice that was – what you did. Thanks."

"Oh." Her temper defused in an instant. She remembered what he'd said to her last time, thanking her for being nice to him. She rolled her seat next to his and put her hand on his, smiling softly.

He sighed and looked at her hand. He turned his over to squeeze hers for a second, then let go and turned it back palm-down on the arm of his chair.

"You want me to find someone else," she said, not as hurt by it now as she had been earlier, when she thought he was rejecting her.

He raised a brow at her. "I think it would help you." _And there's a really good chance I won't be around in a few months._

"But…" she stroked the thin skin on the back of his hand and lingered over the callous on his knuckles. "You won't… I don't have to…" She laughed. "This sounded better in my head, you know?"

"Yes, I know. We'll still be friends." He turned his hand and brought hers to his lips, kissing it lightly.


End file.
